Love? Loves for idiots
by LampMagician
Summary: When Valentine is kicked out of camp and left to die on a side road, she learns that life isn't as easy as she assumed. Will she be taken in by the Atlanta camp? Will she be trusted? Will new romance blossom? Probably not. Rated M for sexual scenes, Sexual violence and language
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters.

Warning: Contains sexual scenes and sexual violence.

Chapter one.

They didn't want her in the group. She knew it. They knew it. Yet, she was valuable. Not so much in the sense that they needed her, much more in the sense she was the only one that would do everything for them. She'd go outside, the desolate outside, where the grass was over grown, animals had turned wild, and the walkers were there. She'd run the streets for them, searching for food, searching for medicine and water. Just to find the last shreds of something, something that could look after all six of them, all six of the men. Something that they needed much more than more people in their little group, they need stuff to survive. Valentine make herself useful by finding this stuff. Valentine knew her group liked to keep things small. In fact, she knew her group had killed people in the past. People that weren't useful for anything, except getting in the way. They wouldn't even hesitate to shoot. They kept the women. They loved the women. Valentine grunted in disgust, she hated them. Men were pigs. It was the end of the world and all they could think about was getting laid. All_ she_ could think of was ways to _accidentally_ kill everyone in her group, but she knew that'd never work out. She'd never have time to kill them all in one day, and it'd start to look odd if they went missing one by one.

Non of them would have dared to lay one hand on her though, if she stayed quiet, which is what she tended to do. She would've guessed she was lucky, she wasn't, not at all, she had spent alot of time trying to perfect acting male, swearing like them. She knew if they found out, they'd do unthinkable things to her, horrible, _horrible_ things. She knew this. That's why she tried to make her voice deep, kept her dirty blonde hair short, and wore baggy clothes. She never had time to shave, her armpits _or_ legs, so she didn't have to worry about being too…un-hairy, and not well, male enough. She didn't have much to hide, anywho. Being underweight because of not being able to eat had gotten rid of any breast and curves she may of possessed before, even though she still had small lumps of breast, they were nothing like they used to be. They were at least a C cup before. Before this had started. Before the god damned un-dead had took over America. Maybe even the whole world.

She didn't hope anymore. She didn't hope that somewhere there would be a safe haven. She knew better. Hope gets you killed. Like it had gotten the other men killed. Like it had gotten the other women killed. The spark in their eye as they looked around in hopes that somebody would help them. That somebody would save them, and then the look of sheer horror when the bullet came towards them. Nobody would save them, maybe the knew that already but it was hope, hope that ruined it. Maybe they realized that as the finger pressed down on the trigger and shot them through the head. Maybe, they were in heaven, looking down from above. Of course, Valentine didn't believe that bullshit. If God what going to save them he would of already.

She tried not to flinch, as they got shot. She tried not to show emotion, to be like them the men, but every time she wanted to step in front of the bullet. To save them. To give them hope that they wanted but she couldn't. She was selfish. She wanted to live. She wanted to thrive, to live a life in this godforsaken world. To sit it out, she knew this was stupid. It was false. She was going to die here, and she knew it. So why would she still here? Because they bullied her. Especially when she won't touch the women. She doesn't want them. She doesn't want to hurt them, to use them. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction of finding out she was a girl. That she was slowly poisoning them in their food. No, she didn't want them to know. She was going to save the girls, because she knew if she was found out she was a girl, they'd treat her like one.

She had never killed one of the girls though. That was something she was proud of. She hadn't saved them, or helped them, but she had never killed one. Not even when they tried to force her. Not even when the unthinkable happened. When her defenses slipped down. When she made a mistake.

"Touch her! Do it!" Thomas, the ring leader, shouted at Valentine, holding the crying woman by her wrists with his long, greasy fingers. She winced at his shouting. "Thomas, I don't want to," She told him, frowning. "I'm not going to lay a hand on her," Thomas smirked at this, a quick laugh left his lips. "Vince, you don't seem to understand. It wasn't a request. It was an order. Prove yourself. I want you to take her, right now in front of me." The young girl's eyes widened, and she shook her head repeatedly, trying to pull away from him. "Stop moving, you fucking whore!" He demanded, the girl whimpered. "I…I can't, Thomas," He raised an eyebrow at her, sneering.  
"And why not, boy?" He yelled. "Have you got something to hide? Are you a queer?" He asked an eyebrow still raised. Valentine shook her head quickly. "No, that's not it, I just don't want to, okay?" She told him, her voice rising at the end making her sound more feminine. "You're hiding something, are you?"  
"I said I'm not!  
"Strip, right now," Valentines face dropped. She bit her lip and reached for the ends of her shirt. This was it, wasn't it? It was the end of her. He was going to find out, and she knew this was it. She knew that she was completely, and utterly screwed. How was she so stupid? She lifted her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, but you could tell there were small breasts there. Small and perky, shit, she hated this. She hated the way he looked at her, when he saw her breasts.  
"I knew it," He threw the other girl to the floor, her head smashed against the floor, cleanly knocking her out, maybe even killing her. "You're a fucking girl, you dirty little liar," Valentine was numb. She couldn't take this anymore. What had she done? Why didn't she just refuse to take her shirt off? Would've that caused more trouble? Probably. "Pants off, too, and panties," he smirked. Was he doing this to her? "Do it, bitch!" He screamed at her, walking towards her and pulling them down for her, while she just stood there. "Please, Thomas, don't do this, you don't want this."  
"Oh, but I do, I really do," Suddenly, she was pinned against the wall. "Beg for me, scream for me, bitch," Valentine didn't say anything. She just stood there. She didn't want this, No, No, No. "Beg for me, bitch!" He slapped her around the mouth, splitting her lip.  
"Please, don't do this to me," He slipped his hand between her legs. She started to struggle, but his weight was on top of hers. He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his member. "No, no, please no!" She screamed at him, still struggling under the weight of his body. He smacked her. "Fucking stop moving, you bitch." She stopped and he pulled open her legs roughly, keeping a good hold on her. "How'd you like this you fucking whore?" He thrust into her violently, not giving her time to move. She screamed out in pain, trying to kick out at him, but he was too powerful. "Thomas stop, please, fucking stop!" He kept'd thrusting into her, groaning as he did. Her eyes watered and she bit her lip, giving up. He grabbed her breasts roughly and bit into them. She screamed out in pain. She finally began to cry.

He dumped her naked on her the dusty, stone floor, she winced in pain. They were around a seven miles away from camp. It was too far to walk in a state like hers. She didn't even know where she was herself. Thomas had just been driving with no aim. He just wanted to get rid of the bitch. "What should I say, eh?" He kicked her stomach roughly. All her thighs were bruised and bleeding, her face had taken an equal amount of beating. Her lip was burst, blood was streaming from her mouth. Her breasts were bitten and bruised, and she had bruise hand marks on her stomach. "Should I tell them I went out on a trip with you, and a walker bit you?" He kicked her again. "Should I say you went feral and tried to kill me, so I had to shoot back?" He bent down next to her, before spitting in her face. "I hope you die out here. In fact, I know you'll die out here. There's nobody else out there, you'll suffer." He told her before standing up. He took one last look down at her. "You really are a waste of space, Vin- whatever your fucking name is." And then he was gone.

Valentine was alone. She was beat. She was tired. She was dirty, no. She was fucking filthy and that's how she felt. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and other should have known it was bound to happen. She should have known it was stupid to pretend to be a guy. She curled up into a ball wrapping her arms around her legs. Why was this happening to her? No. She had to snap out of this. She was currently naked and lying in the middle of a road that could potentially be a death zone. She got onto her knees, wincing at the pain in her muscles as she stood up. She started to hobble forward. It was so hot. The sun was scorching her. If she didn't die of thirst, or hunger. She'd die of sunstroke.

She followed the road around, walking and walking for what seemed to be hours, it was hours. 3 hours. It was starting to get dark. She had to keep walking. If she didn't, she'd die. Sweat poured down her body. She couldn't breathe properly, her mouth was incredibly dry, all the saliva had left her body. Her chest heaved up and down. "I…need a break." and then she collapsed to the floor. Her chest heaving violently, was this heat stroke? As she fell, her head smacked against the floor. She cried out in pain. "Fuck." She muttered. She closed her eyes, her vision becoming clouded. Was this the end? Of course it was.  
"Is…she alive?" Valentine's eye's snapped open she was faced with a Korean boy, before her eyes rolled into her head and she fainted.

_Authors Note_: Please review and rate ! :D Thank-you to my lovely Kirby for Beta-ing this for me! C:


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm so sorry if the characters used don't seem right, or seem OC-ish. I tried to make them as believable as possible, but my memory of characters are terrible.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the walking dead or any of its characters.

Chapter Two.

"Is…she alive?" The words rang through her head, as her eyes fluttered open. Where…was she? Her eyes took awhile to focus. The room was dark; her hands moved to her body. She was crudely clothed, in a massive t-shirt that clearly belonged to a bigger man. Her eyes still hadn't focused properly. She tried to sit up, to get a better look around the room but she had to steady herself; to stop herself from fainting. She groaned in pain. Well, at least she knew she wasn't dead. Or…was she? Was this heaven? If so, why was she in so much fucking pain? How long had she been out? Was this just a dream? She didn't know. She started to cough, holding her hand to her face. "Do you…want some water?" A small Korean boy stuck his head around the door, checking whether or not she was awake. He stepped forward. Valentine nodded her head slightly, coughing again. The Korean boy sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm, uh, Glenn," He took his hat off and ruffled his grease smothered hair. "I'm…the person that found you," He put the glass to Valentine's lips, and she took a sip, glad that he had done this for her without her asking. "Herschel says that you might have some trouble…walking," He muttered, avoiding eye contact. She paused, remembering what happened to her before she had passed out. The days, weeks, months that, that…thing had happened. "You've been out for a week, Carol and I have been watching you," Valentine didn't even know who Carol was, and didn't feel safe at all. "I have to go, I'll tell Rick that you're awake…" He avoided eye contact with her throughout the whole conversation. Did she look that bad? She didn't feel that bad…well, maybe she did, but she didn't want to admit that to herself. He then fled the room, shutting the door behind him almost silently.

Her eyes checked the room, fluttering around with sudden movements. Where was she? Was she safe? These people had fixed her up, and looked after her the week she was out; they couldn't be that bad, right? Plus, they had a house. A house that could be used her for own will, she wasn't going to stay with the people that he mentioned. She had to get away from this place as soon as she could. She turned to get out of bed, and gasped in pain, her hands flying to her side. "Shit," She muttered, wincing, her voice cracking. She placed her feet on the ground and hoped she could stand; she could. She took one step forward, and almost screamed in pain. Her foot hardly being able to take her weight. She needed to get out of here, but could she even make it outside of the house with this limp. She looked down at her foot, to see the majority of her left leg bruised from ankle to knee. She winced at the site, but tried to focus on moving forward. "Right," she whispered to herself, limping slowly to the door, making sure not to put too much pressure onto her left leg.

She clasped her hands on the door knob and turned it, slowly, making sure not to make any noise. She stuck her head out the doorway slowly, her eyes looking for anybody that could possibly get in her way. There was nobody there. She hobbled forward checking the hallway for anybody that could interrupt her escape, especially this 'Rick' who the Korean boy talked about. He had to be the leader. If he wasn't the leader, who would he be? Was he going to be like Thomas? Violent, ill-tempered and a rapist? She hoped not, but what difference would it make if she was planning on escaping? She had to do it now, before she got attached. Knowing the Korean boy's name was already enough for her to feel sick about leaving. She had to ignore it, so that is what she did.

She imagined she had woken up, on the floor in the living room, as she hobbled through it, almost silently. She stopped, looking for the easiest exit. She looked at the kitchen, but ignored it. She had better things to worry about than feeding herself, but then, at the mention of food, she became well aware of the fact she was a girl; and that she was naked, with just a long shirt on, hardly covering her bruised and bandaged thighs. She winced but she had to keep on moving. She had to. What if they found her here. She would not only be putting herself in danger, but this group. This group she didn't know. The house was big, she noted, definitely a farm house. And that meant there was a 50% chance that this was walker infested and that she had only dreamed up Glenn- the Korean boy. Yet, this also meant that there was a 25% chance that this was run by people. Why 25%? Because it could also be run by bad people, which were the type of people, in her state, she didn't want to come across. She knew there were at least four people here. "Carol, Glenn, Rick and Herschel," she murmured to herself, looking around almost wildly. Yet something struck her as odd. If there was four people here, why weren't they in the house?

As if on cue, a tall, slender man walked into the living room, and almost jumped out of his skin. He reached for his gun quickly, but stopped when her saw that it was the girl that Glenn had found. He moved his hand off of the gun, and raised them cautiously, as if to show he meant no harm. He was unshaven and dirty, the type of man Valentine would stay well clear of naturally, yet he had a strange softness in his features when he saw the look on the girl's face. A look of pure confusion. She didn't understand why he had moved his hands away from his gun. She could be dangerous. She wasn't, but she could have been. In fact, if he had met her before she probably would have begged to go with him, and wouldn't be a harm at all. Even in her broken state, she didn't want to hurt the man that saved her. She didn't want to hurt Thomas when he saved her, and mistook her for a guy, but this man was different. He didn't have the murderous look on his face. He looked, well, friendly, and he even sounded that way when he spoke. "Ma'am, I am going to ask you to go back to bed," He told her, his arms still out. "We will then discuss your needs and how long you wish to stay with the group, are you okay with this?" That was not a request, that was an order. Valentine knew that this man was definitely a man of the law. She could easily see it. She could see the authority, yet the softness in his face. She nodded once; her escape had been put to a halt, for now. "Would you like any help?" he asked walking at her side as she hobbled through the rooms. She ignored him, staying silent.

When they got to the room, he held the door open as she walked through and sat on the bed. "I hope you are feeling a lot better…" He looked at her, waiting for her name.  
"Vin- Val." She told him, staring intently at him, trying to work out his character. He intentions did not seem ill-mannered, but maybe he was just a good actor, he could have been a lawyer. Maybe she could actually trust this group. "Val," he added to the end of his sentence. "I'm going to have to question you about a few things if you wish to stay, Val, I hope you don't mind," he muttered; she could sense him wanting to look away, but he held eye contact with her. "I'm going to have to ask you what got you into the mess you are in now," Valentine nodded knowingly. "I was in a group. It was led by somebody called Thomas," She spat his name out in disgust, and the man she assumed was Rick must have noticed, as he seemed to wince slightly. "There were six…men, but now five," she told him, sighing. "I was one of the men, even though I am clearly a girl," she paused, not wanting to tell her story. "They picked me up, it was just a few weeks after the dead started arising. I had cut off most of my hair and I had lost a lot of weight. They mistook me for a boy; a male," She sighed shakily. "It was a month into my stay with them I realised that they were…bad people," Rick looked at her, again, in the eyes, almost pressuring her to continue. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut in. "We were a large group, around 24 men, and 17 women, but then the horde came; it got rid of a lot of the bastards, but there was still 6 men and 8 women," she paused, catching her breath. "I went out for them, the day after, taking what I could find to keep up safe. I walked in on what they were doing to a family they had found," she grimaced. "They killed the father, and raped the girl, who took her own life later that month," she winced. "This happened for the next 7 months, the women getting treated like fuck bags, men getting shot. A few of the girls got knocked up, but they killed 'em, too many mouths to feed, they said," Valentine shrugged. "I never touched anybody though, couldn't have them find out I was a woman, even though I think they knew. One day, Thomas snapped and raped me before dumping me on a road. Glenn found me, and here we are now," Rick was staring at her, she then realised her body was shaking with terror and she was holding back tears.

Rick never introduced himself that night, he had walked out after Valentine's story, without even saying goodbye. He was disgusted that anybody would do that to an innocent girl. He came up later though, and apologised for his behaviour earlier. He told her she was safe here, for as long as she needed to be. He told her that she could stick around for as long as she wanted and didn't even have to leave. He left some food, which she barely touched and some clean, fitting clothes for when she wanted to come downstairs. The clothes were a pair of shorts and a checkered top. She didn't care. They were just clothes to her, but at the moment, she supposed she'd need them. She felt like she was taking too much from this group, and maybe that was for the worse. She got stood up silently and moved to what looked to be a bathroom. She filled up the sink with cold water and washed her body with it, then she washed her hair with the soap and the dirty water, not really caring, as it was her own germs. Hell maybe it would kill her quicker. She finished quickly and put her clean clothes on. Suddenly there was a quick knock on the door, as a short haired woman entered. "D-d-inner is ready, if you wish to eat with us." Valentine followed after her.


End file.
